


i will find you in a burning sky;

by thatbluebox



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3x10 spoilers, Angst and Tragedy, Death!Ward, F/M, its all bittersweet and sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5482466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatbluebox/pseuds/thatbluebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something unfurled within her chest for the tiniest of seconds, and she hesitated. She looked down and found her eyes locked with Grant Ward; pain, incredibility, and fear fell over his features as he gasped in her grasp. Skye felt something warm grip her, despite the voice in her head that screamed in protest. </p><p>His voice came again, eerily familiar and reminiscent, "Skye,"</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will find you in a burning sky;

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for my skyeward secret santa skyeesjohnson! so sorry that this is late, hun! but i hope you had a wonderful christmas. it was lovely to be your secret santa! c: hope you enjoy the fic - it's angsty and bittersweet.
> 
>  
> 
> *this fic has spoilers for 3x10 so be weary to all who enter! it also takes liberties to death!ward's abilities, his personality, etc. 
> 
> special thanks to catteo for her help.

 

 

 

The mission had gone wrong.

 

Daisy - _Skye_ \- she could barely remember her own name - blinked through the stars that proliferated in her vision. She noted blearily that the warehouse she had gone in to infiltrate was on fire, and flames licked up the wooden beams around her. Smoke burned her eyes and nostrils. Skye rolled to her side and winced at the realization that something was broken. That _thing -_

 

Her skin prickled when she recalled the thing that followed _it,_ like a dark cloud that loomed just above a precipice. It and its’ master had attacked minutes after she had arrived, and their encounter had left her in a crumpled heap. 

 

When Skye finally turned her gaze upwards, all she saw were shadows, smoke and an approaching figure. 

 

She went rigid. 

 

“I was expecting more of a fight,” She refused to close her eyes when she heard the voice; detached, cold and worst of all, Grant Ward’s. It paused for a second, clearly deliberately, as the flames rose higher. “I’m truly disappointed.”

 

She gritted her teeth together, and fought through the wave of nausea. 

 

A tremor shook the ground as a shower of sparks flew upwards. 

 

It smiled. 

 

“My word. Should I act impressed?” 

 

Skye awkwardly pushed herself up, her gaze pinned to the brown eyes that watched her. She clenched her jaw as she felt her clearly broken rib grind in, but determinedly faced it as she stood.

 

“If you’re under the impression I care what you think of me, you’re dreaming.” 

 

It’s glittering eyes silently regarded her, his stillness unnatural and inhuman. She swallowed back the bile and cleared her head of the memories of a traitor who once lived in this skin. Skye pushed those thoughts out of her head, and used the moment to think of where her last bits of energy should be used. 

 

“You cared what _he_ thought of you, however.”

 

It was stalling her, she realized with a jolt; for what other reason would it take pleasure in dredging up information like this, _unless Ward was still -_

 

She abruptly cut off that thought. 

 

Skye forced herself to look over his - its - shoulder, toward the blackened archway that led to the exit. Part of her was offended she so readily accepted defeat. The other part of her knew with complete certainty that she could not bear witness to what stood before her for much longer. So instead Skye focused on honning in her abilities once more - 

 

“You could have saved him,” Startled, Skye turned her head back in confusion. “He truly thought that. Redeem him if you wanted to.” His next words make her flinch. "But you didn't."

 

She forced a simpering, cold smile."I am nobody’s salvation." 

 

"I'm sure. You shot him four times." 

 

"He had done worse."

 

"Far worse."

 

"I never asked to be anyone's redemption. I can’t ever be.” She hated how defensive she sounded, even to her own ears. He had deserved it, she had rationalized over and over again, until it had become an automatic truth. 

 

"No," He looked pensively at her. "But you are a martyr. And all martyrs die."

 

Skye felt her mouth dry at his words. She eyed the swarming _thing_ that surrounded him that reeked of death. The smell crept into her throat, and she suppressed a cough. 

 

Instead, she squared her shoulders, bit back the pain, and stared him down. 

 

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re the one who is going to die here." 

 

It grinned, cold and dark, like a river under thick ice. 

 

“Oh, you misunderstand me, my dear. When you live as long as I have, seen what I've seen, lived as I have, only the inevitable remains." He took a step forward, and something shifted in his expression, vast and empty. A great yawning fissure in his eyes. "I do not fear death. I do not welcome death. _I am death."_

 

And she believed him. 

 

A barricade of shadows spiralled towards her, and she tripped backwards in her surprise. Her hands flew up, and a shallow pulse hindered the attack. Again she found herself on the floor as the writhing darkness assaulted the air inches above her face. It mingled with the smoke, and it twisted upwards, an echoing thrumming noise in its wake. It doused the flames surrounding them in a hiss, and the room darkened around her. 

 

Skye shuddered as she blinked away the spots in her vision, fear hitched in her throat. Whatever power that was - what it was able to control - was something she had never seen before and _never wanted to see again._

 

 

"Humans are such docile creatures." His voice immediately garnered her attention, and beneath her suit, goose bumps rose up her forearms. Skye pulled herself up, and reached up to see blood trip down from her nose. She wiped at it haphazardly, feeling a restless anger build up inside of her. 

 

He was baiting her. 

 

"You don't know anything about us.” Skye was humiliated to admit she had all but breathed her words.

 

It rose an eyebrow at her.

 

"Don't I?"

 

Skye regretted her words immediately, and watched as Grant Ward's face turned directly towards her.

 

"Why, let's take for example this body, shall we? This man, who was hell bent on revenge against another, knew the other’s ultimate weakness. No, not Philip Coulson’s brand of justice he tried so valiantly to defend. Nor the innocents he claimed to protect. No, Coulson’s weakness is where all mens' lay: in the heart of woman. In this particular case, in the form of fatherly affection." He tilted his head at her, and Skye felt her neck stiffen at his gaze. "Not once did Grant Ward entertain the possibility of exacting his revenge through you. He could do many things - as I'm sure you've heard - but he never once could do what he should have: hurt you. Why do you think that is?" 

 

Ward stared at her, but _it_ looked straight through her. 

 

She kept her mouth shut.

 

Just as quickly, the intensity of his gaze was gone, replaced by a superior indifference to the emotions battling over Skye's face. He made a tsking sound, and shook his head regretfully. "Docile. All of you submissive to one emotion or the other." 

 

He spun on his heel, and shot her a insincere look. "Perhaps in death I should thank him," The creature rationalized out loud, and Skye frowned at his words. "It would have been such a waste to see you dead so soon, not when we have so much to accomplish." 

 

His words sent a prickle of ice down her spine. Is this why he hadn’t killed her yet? Because he had some greater scheme he was conceived she was apart of? Skye bit down on the inside of her cheek as his eyes flashed in the new darkness, and settled on her next course of action.

 

She surprised him.

 

In one last burst of speed Skye swept her feet under him and tackled him to the ground with the force of her power. Strong, fast, and malicious, Skye knew she had to extort every fibre of her will and inhuman ability to keep him down as she pressed herself down on top of him. All around them a thundering noise shook the dirty floorboards, and rubble cascaded downwards from the ceiling. She ignored every single flaring memory that was threatening to overtake her as she positioned herself above him for the final blow. 

 

 

She had him.

 

_This ends now._

 

 

"Skye -" 

 

 

Something unfurled within her chest for the tiniest of seconds, and she hesitated. She looked down and found her eyes locked with Grant Ward; pain, incredibility, and fear fell over his features as he gasped in her grasp. Skye felt something warm grip her, despite the voice in her head that screamed in protest. A memory seeped unbidden from the hidden corners of her mind, where Ward had called out to her when his heart stopped. His voice came again, eerily familiar and reminiscent, _"Skye,"_

 

The rumbling slowed as Skye took a steadying breath, her eyes locked onto a dead man. Her grip slackened for a second -

 

 

 

-and it was all it needed.

 

 

 

"Come now," He - _it_ \- chastised her as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. "Delusion is never a fine quality to have." And with that, he flipped her off of him with unexpected strength, which knocked Skye with bruising force into the nearby wall. It stood as she coughed dirt and dust, her eyes fluttering as she fought to keep conscious. “It’s not personal." It lectured as he moved towards her, but she could hear the undercurrents of annoyance in its flippancy. His last words proved as much, despite her intention to ignore the jab. 

 

_Liar,_ Skye thought irritated. 

 

"For a dead man, you sure talk a lot." Skye grumbled, and spat blood.

 

It laughed.

 

“Why I thought I was offering you a boon.” 

 

Now it was her turn to laugh; it was a broken, hysterical laugh, which hurt more than her now broken ribs. “You think this” She gestured to Ward’s body,“ - _A gift?”_ Skye’s brown eyes caught his, and the noise died in her throat. Her mouth curled back as she regarded him, her bleeding hands curled deftly beneath her. “I'll show you my gift to you.” 

 

And with that, she kicked out, and a deep fissure cracked beneath their feet. The weakened and blackened wooden floorboards easily gave way, and together, they fell into the darkness below. 

 

 

It wasn't until the whistling noise of wind brushed her ears that Skye realized what the warmth she had felt was: _hope._

 

 

*

 

Skye had often thought if things had been different, her entire life would have changed. Now as the last flicker of light above her gave way to darkness, she realized one thing she wished she could have changed. 

 

In that time from their conversations in that cell to meeting her father, there had been a moment. 

 

And a moment could have led to another moment. In the darkness, Skye could finally begin to see it clearly. 

 

Perhaps Grant Ward could have been an asset. Perhaps after a time, he could truly have been an independent contractor for SHIELD. Perhaps all the terrible and ugly things he had committed since would never have happened if she had chosen to say a specific word. 

 

_And perhaps_ after many years, many, many long years, they would be - 

 

 

*

 

Everything had a fuzzy quality of light to it.

 

Skye blinked owlishly as her vision cleared, and she faced the concerned face of Grant Ward. Startled, she took a step back, before her eyes adjusted to the scene.

 

Behind Ward sat Simmons and Fitz, who watched expectantly from their seat on the couch. Simmons had a glass of wine in her hand, while the other balanced on Fitz’s knee. Fitz himself held a glass of hard scotch, his other hand entangled with Simmon’s. To the left was a brightly lit christmas tree, which sparkled with brightly coloured bulbs and ribbon. Underneath sat an arrangement gifts, variously wrapped and shaped. She saw her own messy scrawl over a card marked for Simmons, next to a haphazardly wrapped present from Fitz. 

 

Directly in front she saw a roaring fire, the mantle hung with decorative stockings and dotted with candles. This was in no means the bus, and it took a moment for Skye to realize where she was.

 

“Christmas,” Skye breathed. 

 

Fitz, who sported bright red reindeer ears, snorted. “Yes, glad you re-established that. Can we get on with it now? Ward and I have a bet going on that I’d like to settle” 

 

She glanced at Ward, who took her hand with a conspiratory smile. Dazed, Skye let him lead her to the couch - _their_ couch - and sat. 

 

“What is it?” Ward leaned over to her, while Fitzsimmons bickered amongst the two of them, and Skye turned to him in surprise.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re crying,” Ward lifted a tentative hand to her cheek, while his eyes searched hers. Skye reached up to find her fingers came away wet, and she quickly blinked back more. She ducked her head, and wiped a hand under her eyes. After a moment, she peeked up at him - at Ward - and felt her heart tighten. 

 

His eyes were warm, brown and _alive_ in the firelight. He wore his favourite black henley, with a bow tactfully placed at the front, her own handiwork written all over it. Behind him sat picture frames full of photos of the two of them, the four of them at times, all around the globe. Her eyes fell on him again, on the way his thumb was caressing her hand; the slight stubble on his chin, his smell of soap, blood and aftershave; at how his body curved towards her without realization or care. Something tried to worm it’s way to the forefront of her mind, something she did not want to see or remember. 

 

“I’m just - I’m really, really happy, that’s all.” 

 

Ward watched her for a few minutes more, before his own face broke into an grin. He reached over and grabbed her hand, and squeezed tight.

 

“Me too.” 

 

Skye pulled his hand into her lap as she reached over, and her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned in. He in turn wrapped his free hand around her, and she felt his strong arms encircle her. She inhaled his familiar smell, but something was wrong. Something _rotten._

 

The warmth of the fire suddenly did not reach her skin. Fitzsimmons’ chatter had faded behind her, and Skye shivered, suddenly cold in Ward’s embrace. When her eyes snapped open, Ward's gaze met her steadily. They held no spark of humanity, only cool and _lifeless._ His hands, which had caressed hers moments before, felt like ice within her grasp. She stilled.

 

_No._

 

Skye squeezed her eyes shut. 

 

_Come back._

 

The familiar laughter and the steady heartbeat of _home._

 

 

Ward’s voice - not its' - was the last thing she heard. 

 

_“Skye,”_

 

 

 

 

*


End file.
